


inhumane

by DesertLily



Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Mob, Changelings, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, First Meetings, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Part-Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, changeling jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertLily/pseuds/DesertLily
Summary: Jaskier was a changeling; a replacement left behind in the place of a human child, and the world never let him forget it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946296
Comments: 6
Kudos: 313
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	inhumane

**Author's Note:**

> Highkey kinda vibe with this AU tbh. For the whumptober prompt: Angry mob

Julian Alfred Pankratz was many things. A lover. A bard. A former viscount.  _ A fraud _ . At least, partially. Though, ‘replacement’ might have been a better word. He was a changeling, left in the place of the true viscount of Lettenhove whilst the true one was whisked away to the fae realm. It hadn’t taken long for his so-called ‘parents’ to notice. He was too attentive as a baby. He was too aware with eyes far too wide to be human and skin that held the slightest glimmer to it; the slightest sign that something wasn’t quite right. He was given another name upon being found out. Jaskier. It was a reminder as to what he wasn’t. He did not get to use the viscount’s name for that wasn’t who he truly was. To an outsider, ‘Jaskier’ would appear like a fond nickname. To an insider, it was a brand used against Jaskier to mark him as something other than human. 

He stayed in Lettenhove until the day he turned eighteen. At least his ‘parents’ had been gracious enough to look after him until then. After that, Jaskier was set adrift. They could lay and say he left home as an act of rebellion; a determination to get away from his life as a noble. But he knew the truth. They were disgusted by him. They always had been. Everyone was. So he drifted. He wandered, knowing he could never truly find a home. Oxenfurt had been nice for a time. He had been able to study and even teach there for a time! But Jaskier could not hide the truth forever. Others there had begun to notice how slowly and how little he aged. So the now-bard took his leave before anyone could look too deeply. 

Thus, he began his career as a travelling bard. He went town to town, singing songs and tales of his own devising in order to make whatever money he could. It wasn’t a lot but he got by. He survived and that was enough. It had to be. Whatever choice did he have? Jaskier never stayed in one place for long. He would never let anyone get suspicious of him. There was too much danger if they knew the truth. 

Then it happened. The simplest of mistakes exposed him for what he truly was. In the latest town he was passing through, he was settled in with the intention of eating in the open area. The people of the town seemed friendly enough. It was peaceful. Then Jaskier went to pick up the fork. He could barely hold it for so much as a second before it scorched his hand. Iron. Just the smallest of touches would burn a member of the fae like a brand. The townsfolk were far less friendly towards him when they realised he wasn’t human. 

Jaskier had barely been able to grab his lute; his prized possession before they ran him out of town. He was spat upon, taunted, and mocked the entire way. He tried to keep his head held high. It was fine. He could earn money and buy new items at the next town - or hope someone there took pity on him. Only, the townsfolk weren’t done with him yet. Apparently their hatred of the fae went deeper than he had initially understood. 

There weren’t many men in the hunting party that followed Jaskier into the woods but they were armed with iron weapons. They weren’t looking to just hurt or scare Jaskier. They were looking to  _ kill _ him. For the most part, he was able to keep to himself. He was able to hide and tuck himself away from prying eyes. But he had no food or water, and a fire would only attract attention so he lacked any true form. Jaskier would not survive long like this. But he could not leave unnoticed. 

Then came the moment Jaskier was certain he was going to die. A gentle nudge from someone’s boot was enough to cause his eyes to snap open. Instinctively, he scrambled backwards in an attempt to get away. And as he glanced up to the man that had woken him, his every instinct screamed at him to run. The white hair alone made the man stick out. Geralt of Rivia. The Butcher of Blaviken.  _ A witcher _ . Someone that hunted monsters; monsters like him. Because that was what Jaskier was, wasn’t it? It was what he had grown up being told. But the man did not look at him with any malice. Just something that could be seen as pity or concern. 

“Are you the bard?” With some reluctance, Jaskier found himself slowly nodding. That was when the man threw something at him. A waterskin. Glancing inside would confirm to Jaskier that it was full. “It’s not poisoned or tampered with. Drink.” Jaskier had a feeling it was an order, not a request. Not that it mattered much anyways. He was  _ desperate _ . There was nothing glamorous about the way he gulped down the water until there was nothing left. Geralt had taken that as a chance to kneel down besides him. “Are you hurt?” 

Jaskier hesitated before reluctantly showing him the burn mark on his hand. “...Are you going to kill me?” 

The witcher paused for a moment, giving him an odd look. “I kill monsters, bard.” Geralt moved to take Jaskier’s hand in his, gently inspecting the burn. “And that is something you are not.” Jaskier froze at that. That...hadn’t been the response he was expecting. In all honesty, he had assumed Geralt to be mocking him; to be toying with him until he went in for the kill. But that was nothing in his words that came across as a lie. “If you were a monster, you would have hurt them. You would not hide away.” 

His gaze turned downwards. “...I can’t help that I’m this.” Jaskier whispered. “I-I don’t want to hurt people and I never have. But this is all I’ll ever be to anyone. They do not care to know me because they have their own expectations for what I should be.” He found himself relaxing ever so slightly. “They refuse to see me as a person. All I am is a changeling. A menace.” 

“All I am is a witcher.” Geralt hummed. “Humans care not for the things they don't understand. They simply choose to hate them instead. You did not choose this life, bard.” 

“Jaskier.” He found himself correcting. “My name is Jaskier.” The other man smiled. 

That was how they began. Geralt and Jaskier. The monster-slayer and his bard. The witcher and the changeling. Friends. Family. And perhaps one day something more. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated or hmu @ desert-lily on tumblr!


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